


Need to Breathe

by TricksterBee (calliope_rises)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Cutting, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Past Cutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calliope_rises/pseuds/TricksterBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to the following anonymous ask on http://imagine-kaz2y5.tumblr.com/--"Hey can I get a one shot involving Luce or gabe. I was hoping for maybe a little angst. The reader or oc (whichever you prefer) gets an anxiety attack and is alone in the bunker and one of them has to try to calm her down before she does something drastic like rip her hair out, or damage herself. Thanks."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need to Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd

You felt it coming--an itch under your skin, a tightness to your chest--but there was nothing you could do to stop it. Trying to control your breathing didn’t help; it just made you feel like you were suffocating. No matter what you tried, you only got more anxious. Hell, you didn’t even know what triggered the attack this time. And the boys were on a hunt, so they weren’t there to talk you down.

Pacing around the bunker just had you feeling trapped, and you rubbed your arms briskly as the tears began to flow. Your fingernails dug into your skin in a desperate attempt to find something else to focus on. You could breathe for a minute as the pain stole your attention, but then the anxiety was back even worse than before. 

Pain.

That’s what you needed. The memory of the clarity and calm that came with pain blared in your head, and you practically ran to your bedroom.

The blade was still taped to the underside of the shelf above the sink in your room where you’d left it months earlier. In your haste to remove it, you sliced open the tip of a finger. HIssing in pain, you brought the appendage to your lips, the copper tang of blood filling your mouth. The long-forgotten rush that came with the pain of a blade against your skin swept over you, but on its heels was still the tight feeling of panic. It had been months since you’d been bad off enough to need to cut and despite the almost overwhelming urge to release all the anxiety smothering you right now, you didn’t really want to go back down that road.

Blade clutched in your fist, you sank to the floor beside your bed. “Please, please, please. Help me,” you cried brokenly. “I can’t...I can’t...it’s too much. Please.” Your voice faded away and you pulled your bare legs close to your chest, lowering the blade until it rested against your skin. It would be so easy to just press a bit harder, but you’d promised Sam and Dean you wouldn’t cut any more, and you didn’t want to disappoint them.

And Lucifer--you didn’t want to let him down either. The relationship between the two of you was still young, but he had quickly become one of the most important people in your life. The idea of disappointing the archangel had your breath coming in sharp gasps. The blade shook in your hand and your grip tightened on it, unmindful of the blood dripping from your hand as the blade cut into it.

Breaths becoming more and more difficult to pull in as anxiety overwhelmed you, all you could do was slump down until you were curled on your side on the floor murmuring Lucifer’s name and crying. The sound of wings didn’t register, but your sobbing grew louder at Lucifer breathing your name in shock when he saw you on the floor. 

“No, no, no, love. What happened?” he said with a frantic note to his voice as he stooped to brush your hair back from your face with cool fingers. His blue eyes watched with concern as you turned into his touch but didn’t answer him. When he saw the blood dripping from your closed fist, he gently pried your fingers open, tossing the blade aside and healing you in seconds as he gathered you into his arms.

Holding your close, he scooted onto the bed and situated you in his lap. Lucifer was worried because your breathing was still erratic and began rubbing soothing circles on your back with one hand. “Breathe with me, love. In and out. In and out. That’s right. That’s my sweet girl,” he cooed softly as you struggled to match the rhythm of his breathing. He kissed your forehead as your breathing started to even out. “Good girl. You’re doing so well for me. In and out. In and out. So perfect for me.”

Your fingers clutched tightly at the black t-shirt he wore as you burrowed further into his arms, eyes still closed and breathing almost back to normal. The soothing cadence of his voice seeped into your very soul, and you felt the last of your anxiety melting away. “Luce?” you questioned in a voice hoarse from crying, finally opening your eyes to look at him.

“I’m right here, sweet.” He hugged you to him and kissed the top of your head. “I’ve got you.”

“But why? Why are you here?” You ducked your head down to nestle in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of ozone and snow that was uniquely his. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here.”

“You called to me, and I came. I could hear your pain. I hate it when you hurt.” He was silent for a moment as he just held you. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

A sigh escaped you as you tried to figure out how to explain it. “To be totally honest, I have no idea. One minute I’m fine, the next an anxiety attack is coming at me like a freight train. I tried everything I could to break out of it, but nothing worked.”

“And the blade?”

“It was an old one from months ago when I was still...when I was still cutting myself. I couldn’t think of anything else to do, but I didn’t really want to use it.” 

“I’m glad.” Lucifer reached out to pull the blanket from near the foot of the bed up over the both of you. “I need you here.”

“Need you too, Luce,” you yawned, exhaustion sweeping over you as the adrenaline from the anxiety attack finally ran out. “Love you.”

You didn’t see the smile that quirked his lips at your admission, nor did you hear him respond in kind as your eyes closed and breathing evened out in sleep. But you did smile in your sleep as you felt the warmth of his wings enfold you as he continued to hold you close.


End file.
